7 Eleven
by Nana56
Summary: 7 year-old Sam and 11 year-old Dean find themselves in a dangerous situation during a visit to the local convenience store.
1. Chapter 1

This is a little two-parter that popped into my mind while watching one of the "Wildest Police Videos" or something like that. My first real attempt at a 'weechesters'. I hope it won't be my last. I loved doing John in this one and our boys as wee ones are just too much fun. :D

My undying gratitude to the awesomely lovely and talented Muffy Morrigan (we've decided at some time we were twins!) for the fantastic beta job. All remaining mistakes are mine.

I don't own them :-(. They belong to Kripke and the CW. I'm just having a blast, not making any money.

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"Deeeeannn, come onnnnnn. We're almost there." Seven-year-old Sammy Winchester was very perturbed with his eleven-year-old brother Dean.

The brothers were on their way to the convenience store just four blocks from their current residence. Dean had promised Sammy a treat when he got his homework done and the youngster had worked doubly hard to get his lessons done. It had never been a problem for the boy to complete his homework, for some reason the older brother couldn't understand, his little brother really liked school. Today, Dean didn't want to wait very long. He'd been feeling closed in on this beautiful spring day and didn't want to spend any longer inside than absolutely necessary. Promising Sammy a treat got them outside very quickly. Dutifully leaving a note as was the rule whenever they left when their dad was at work, the two boys left the house in anticipation. However, it was the big brother's prerogative to torment the younger boy, so he was walking very slowly. Each time his little brother turned and whined, the older boy smiled in satisfaction. Dean was pretty sure that the younger boy had probably added three miles to his feet as he ran to the corner and back to his brother.

"Hold your horses, Sammy. I'm coming. The store's not going anyplace and there'll still be treats when we get there." Dean chuckled openly at his little brother. He'd done a few chores for the old lady next door and had a little money set aside for this very purpose. The older boy knew not to blow the money, but his baby brother deserved a treat. He only wished he could do more for the little boy. They finally reached the store and Dean opened the door to allow his little brother to go in first. The younger boy rushed through the door and began roaming up and down the aisles, eyes big as saucers.

"Hey, Dean. Sammy." Mickey, the friendly clerk waved at the boys. He'd gotten to know them fairly well in the few weeks the family had lived in the neighborhood. They sometimes came in for milk or a loaf of bread, and he'd become quite fond of them. The boys were well behaved, never causing any problems for the clerk, always saying 'sir' and 'thank you'. Some children that came into the store had to be watched at all times, but not the Winchesters. Dean rarely was very far away from his little brother, and Sammy talked excitedly most of the time they were there, never touching the merchandise. Mickey knew that if one of the boys picked up an item, it was to purchase it.

"Hey, Mickey. Promised Sammy a treat if he got his homework done fast. Okay if we look around for a while?"

"Sure, Dean. No problem. You boys take your time and let me know when you're ready."

"Thanks." Dean headed off in search of his little brother, finding him in the candy aisle as expected. "Choose carefully, Sammy." He put his arm around the little boy's shoulder.

Sammy looked up at his big brother, eyes alight. "Look at it, Dean. The whole aisle is candy. I've seen this aisle when we've come in before, but I'm actually here. Just look at it." He turned back to all the candy in front of him in quiet wonder.

The older boy smiled at his little brother, enjoying Sammy's happiness. "Don't forget they have ice cream, too." The look on the little boy's face made the older boy laugh out loud. Dean laughed as he thought that his baby brother would probably O.D. on sugar from just being there.

The brothers walked up and down the aisles looking at the various items on the shelves. Dean hurried his little brother through part of the paper aisle . . . there were items there he didn't want to try explaining at this age. It was a boring aisle anyway with paper plates, cups, and the like. Sammy was eager to move on to more interesting items. The older boy was interested in the car care items and happily explained to Sammy about the different motor oils, car waxes, etc. Sammy wasn't very interested, but he loved to hear his brother explain things, so he listened with rapt attention. The younger boy believed if Dean was interested, it must be important.

Unnoticed by the young pair, it had gotten dark outside. Dean had forgotten his desire to be outside in the joy of providing some happiness for his brother. Mickey was bored and not taking much notice of anything in the shop. The occasional customer came and went, but there wasn't a lot of business on this night.

A young man came into the store while the boys were in the back behind the last shelf looking at some of the ice cream in the freezer section. Mickey watched him disinterestedly for a bit then returned to his crossword puzzle. The newcomer was dressed like he was wearing hand-me-downs from Goliath. His clothes were way too big on him and very shabby. The young man quickly checked the seemingly empty store, but didn't see the little boys huddled in the back admiring the frozen popsicles at the bottom of the freezer.

The little boys didn't notice the young man either since they were deep in a conversation about the merits of the various flavors on display. Time had passed quickly for Dean and Sammy as they admired the treasure trove of goodies in the store.

The stranger moved to the rear wall of the store to the location of the restrooms and went inside the Men's Room. After a very few minutes, he came back out with the stocking cap he'd been wearing pulled down over his face and holding a gun in his hand. He hurried up to the front of the store and the unsuspecting clerk. Thrusting the gun into Mickey's shocked face, the bandit yelled, "Give me the money and don't give me a hard time, old man! This gun is loaded and I'm not afraid to use it."

Mickey automatically reached for the silent alarm button under the counter, thrilled his boss had had it installed a couple of weeks ago. The movement had been covered by a stumble toward the register as the clerk began to get the money out for the agitated thief. It suddenly struck him like a bolt of lightning that he hadn't seen the Winchester boys in a while. He hoped they'd left; he didn't want them to be involved in this situation. Glancing up at the mirror at the back of the store, however, he saw that wasn't the case, Dean could be seen peaking around the end of the aisle toward the front of the store. Mickey caught the boy's eye and gave a subtle shake of his head, relieved when he saw the little boy move back out of sight.

The thief was nervous. He was shifting from one foot to the other, eyes darting all around trying to see everything at once, afraid of everything — that someone would come into the little store, that the clerk would try something stupid. He was twitching from the adrenalin flowing through his system.

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Dean heard the shout from the strange voice and immediately grabbed Sammy, pushing him to the floor. The younger boy went flat instantly at his brother's movements; the instruction he'd received his whole life causing him to react as he'd been trained, his eyes wide as he watched his big brother for any indication of what he should do next.

"Quiet, Sammy. Stay here and don't move." Dean put his finger to his lips as he whispered the order to his little brother. Receiving the wide-eyed acknowledgement from Sammy, the older boy crept to the end of the aisle that had been at their backs and peaked around to see what was going on at the front of the store. Seeing the nervous man with the stocking mask brandishing a gun while the terrified clerk tried to get the money out of the drawer sent chills down the pre-teen's spine. It seemed that Mickey had noticed him and was giving a slight shake of his head which Dean took to mean that he should stay away. _No problem, Mickey. I'm not taking a chance on letting that guy hurt Sammy! _

Moving back to his little brother, he positioned himself to see the front of the store in the security mirror up on the wall. Everything was going down between them and the safety of the outside. It dawned on Dean that it was dark outside and their dad would be home from work soon. He was torn between wanting his dad to come rescue them, and hoping he would read the note and settle down to wait for them to come home.

Bringing himself back to the present, he concentrated on the situation at hand. His first priority was always Sammy's safety. _Should we wait and hope this jerk leaves or should we try and hide better?_ Glancing up at the mirror, the gunman was becoming more agitated and he seemed to be widening his area of pacing. Dean decided they couldn't take a chance on staying where they were, and began looking for a place to stash his little brother. Unfortunately, there was no place close and the only thing his lightning quick mind could come up with was the restrooms, but they were in the middle of the back wall and he and Sammy were in the corner.

A shaky hand landed on his shoulder followed by scared hazel eyes appearing in his field of vision. The older boy could feel his little brother shaking and placed his arm around the thin shoulders to pull him close. Dean gave a smile of assurance, causing the younger boy to calm slightly as he settled into his big brother's embrace.

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Mickey was delaying. He'd seen Dean move back out of sight of the front of the store, but he could see the two boys huddled together in the mirror. Trying not to spend too much time with his eyes in that direction and alert the thief of someone's presence, he fumbled with the cash drawer. It was making the nervous gunman even more nervous, but Mickey hoped to keep him there long enough for the police to arrive.

"Come on, Pops! What the hell's taking so long?" The criminal slapped his open hand on the counter, leaning in to appear more intimidating.

Mickey jumped at the loud sound, and the stocking mask-covered head's sudden appearance so close to him. Instinctively he pulled away from the young man, throwing his right hand over his heart and feigning a heart problem. "I'm sorry! Y-you've g-got me all n-nervous. My hands are shaking so much, I can't get the right button pushed and now it's locked up. If you'll just give me a few moments . . ."

"NO!" The criminal slammed his hand on the counter again as he roared at the clerk. "Get it open now or I swear I'll kill you!"

The clerk involuntarily jumped back at this new attitude. "Y-yessir. I'm t-trying." No longer playing any game with this guy, Mickey really did try to open the register but had no luck because his hands were actually trembling. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced at the mirror to see Dean preparing to move. "Please, just give me a few seconds here." Taking a deep breath, the older man clasped his hands together and tried to calm down.

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Dean was really scared, but he had to hold it together for Sammy. His little brother was depending on him. After the loud noise and screaming from the nervous young man, he realized he had to find a better hiding place for him and his brother. He turned to Sammy, locking eyes with the little boy. He pointed in the direction of the Ladies' Room, and then indicated that they should run and hide in there. Sammy shook his head furiously, refusing to accept that decision. The older boy stared at his brother in confusion, raising his eyebrows in question. Sammy just shook his head furiously once again in answer to the silent query. Dean frowned and pointed to the restroom, receiving the same reaction from Sammy.

The older boy grabbed Sammy's shirt in anger, letting his little brother know this was not up for discussion. The littlest Winchester's eyes bugged, then he deflated in surrender. Satisfied, Dean brought Sammy's face up to look at him, asking with his eyes if they were good and receiving a reluctant nod in return. Silently preparing for their little run, both boys were startled by another loud bang and shouts from the front of the store. This time, Dean decided the time for waiting was passed, and he prepared to make the dash while the gunman was focused on Mickey. He peeked around the corner, then silently ran to the door of the restroom, opening it as carefully as he could and slipping through, but not allowing it to close. He looked back out at Sammy, then glanced to the front of the store to find the burglar still busy with the clerk. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for Sammy to run to him.

The little boy was shaking, but prepared to do as his big brother instructed. Mimicking Dean's actions, Sammy peeked around the corner and ran to the open door of the rest room and his brother's waiting arms. The older sibling gently closed the door so that it didn't make the typical public restroom 'bang', thrilled to see a deadbolt lock on the inside of the door as he did. He engaged the lock and leaned back against the door, sagging in relief and holding his little brother tight against him. As the two boys slipped to the floor, the sounds of sirens could be heard faintly.

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Mickey huffed out a breath as he saw that the two young boys were safe in the restroom and turned his attention back to the task at hand. His hands were still shaking, but he was certain he could get the drawer open and get this guy out of the store without anyone getting hurt. He glanced at the criminal as the young man made a threatening movement with his gun. The clerk nodded, his mouth suddenly too dry to speak, but was distracted from the cash register by the sound of sirens and flashing lights as two police cars pulled up in front of the store. Relief mixed with enhanced fear flooded through him, filling him once more with adrenalin. _I really am going to have a heart attack if this keeps up._

The gunman was confused. He hadn't expected police to show up at all. He'd been prepared to deal with any customers that might have come in, but he had no plan for _this_. He began pacing in earnest, pointing his gun alternately between the door and the clerk, and running his hands over his head in fear and frustration. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he thrust the gun in Mickey's face and waved the shaking clerk out from behind the counter, smirking as the terrified man raised his hands and complied.

When the older man came close enough, the gunman grabbed him and turned to face the police that were standing outside the building.

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John Winchester was pissed. Pacing the floor of their little living room holding Dean's note in his fist, the oldest Winchester was literally growling. _It's dark and Dean should have had Sammy home by now. That boy knows better than this. What the _hell_ is he thinking? _The angry man glanced down at the crumpled note in his hand. He straightened it out and reread the words in his oldest son's sloppy handwriting. 'Gone to the convenience store to get Sammy a treat. We'll be home by dark. Dean' It'd been dark for a while and his boys weren't home yet. Trying to keep his anger from turning into terror, John continued to pace and mumble to himself. Finally, no longer able to stand the worry that had replaced the anger, John nearly pulled the front door off the hinges as he exited their little house to find his sons.

He'd been tired when he got home from work, but feeling good about having a regular job for a change . . . for his boys. John was still researching, but the lull in hunting had given the Winchesters a chance to stay put for a little while. Sammy loved school and was so happy to be in one school for a while he was fairly bouncing, doing a father's heart good. Finding Dean's note briefly gave him pause because he didn't like his boys to be out alone, but Dean had done as instructed. His boys never gave him any trouble, so he'd let them have this little outing. As time had passed, however, he'd begun to worry. When it became fully dark, his worry turned to anger and then fear.

The 7–Eleven store was only four blocks away so John set off in that direction; still holding the crumpled note. Each step he took toward the convenience store brought him closer to absolute terror. There was something wrong; Dean and Sammy never disobeyed him like this. Dean knew what was out there and would never put Sammy in danger, but John was becoming more certain that both his boys were in trouble. His heart leaped into his throat when he rounded the corner of the third block and the store area came into view. Flashing lights from police cars lit the area — the officers all out of their squad cars with guns pointing toward the building. He could see one of them with a loud speaker apparently trying to talk to someone inside the building. The shocked father couldn't make out the words, but had a pretty good idea of what they were.

Suddenly remembering to breathe, John broke into a run toward the activity, but was stopped by an officer standing next to a barricade. "You can't go any closer, sir. We have a hostage situation going on here and we need people to stay out of the danger area. Please get back, sir."

"Do you know who the hostages are or how many? My sons left a note saying they were coming here." John held the note out to the officer. _Hostage situation? NO! Not my boys, not our babies, Mary._

The officer merely glanced at the proffered note. "There appears to be one hostage, sir, but we haven't confirmed that as yet. The clerk is the only one we've seen so far."

John huffed out a breath, nearly sobbing with relief at the officer's words. "Thank you! Thank you, Officer." He let his head fall forward as he turned away from the young officer. It shot back up when he realized that if the boys weren't in there, where were they? He ran back to the house thinking he might have missed them if they took a shortcut home. Running up the stairs and throwing the front door open he called, "Dean! Sammy! Are you boys here?"

Silence was his answer.

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"Dean, this is the girls' restroom!" Sammy whispered frantically. "We can't be in here, ewwww."

"Shush, runt. It'll be okay. This was the most direct way of getting away from that guy. He's got a gun!"

Round hazel eyes gazed back at the older boy. "What're we gonna do?" he whispered.

"We're going to stay in here until it's all over out there and we can leave. Dad's probably already missed us and knows we're here. He'll come and save us and Mickey. Don't worry, Sammy, it'll be all right." Dean pulled his little brother closer as he tried to look for a way out. He was afraid the gunman would come to search the restrooms, but it had been their best option at the time. He really hoped his dad was out there. There were no windows in here, and they were stuck.

"Dean, I have to pee."

"Not now, Sammy. You have to hold it."

"I can't! We've been in the store for a long time and I have to go."

The older boy rolled his eyes as he thought. "Okay, shrimp. Go into the last stall, but don't flush. Okay? Be very quiet."

Sammy nodded as he carefully got up from the floor and tip toed to the indicated stall. So great was his relief when he had finished his business that he forgot his big brother's instructions, and automatically flushed the toilet. He ran out of the stall in horror at what he'd done to see his brother staring at him in shock.

"I didn't mean it! I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to do it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Tears instantly filled the little boy's eyes and overflowed to run down his cheeks. He began to sob, trying to be as quiet as he could and hoping no damage had been done.

Dean ran to comfort his little brother and whispered, "I know you didn't, Sammy. Normally it'd be a good thing. Maybe the guy didn't hear it. Shhhh. We've really got to be quiet now." Holding the little boy close, they both turned at the sound of a loud voice.

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John leaned against the wall, almost unable to stand under his own power. He ran his hands through his hair and down his face to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He'd searched the whole house and not found his sons. He knew in his heart that they were at the convenience store whether the bastard with the gun knew they were there or not. Dean had apparently had the sense to get Sammy and himself hidden before they were discovered. _Good boy, Dean!_ That didn't mean they were safe, though. They could be found at any time.

Making a decision and pulling himself together, John moved away from the wall and went to his closet where he had the weapons bag stored. He rummaged through it until he found the item he was looking for and replaced the bag in the closet. Reaching behind everything else in the closet, he pulled his light tactical .308 from its place in the corner and sat down on his bed to get ready. He checked the scope that was mounted on the back of the rifle and screwed the silencer into the drilled out barrel. He hefted the rifle lovingly as he checked to make sure the clip was loaded. _The clip's loaded, but I'm only going to need one cartridge._ He had a job to do; his boys were in danger and needed him. John Winchester walked out of his rented house and headed to the stores across the street from the convenience store.

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Mickey cringed at the sound of the toilet flushing. He prayed the gunman hadn't heard it; that he was too hyped and wouldn't know about anyone else being there. He decided to try and distract his captor. "Let me go so you can surrender to the police, son. You haven't hurt anyone yet and don't want to get in any deeper than you already are."

The gunman began rocking from one foot to the other. "Who else is here? I heard something in the back."

"No one. It's just you and me in here. It's okay."

The agitated man growled as he gave the frightened clerk a shake. "Don't lie to me old man. There's someone back there in the restroom!"

"No! I swear there's no one back there. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid, old man." The gunman lied. "You're the one who should be afraid." He began to pull them both toward the back of the store.

The clerk resisted, but to no avail. The man was stronger than him and his adrenalin increased his strength. Mickey was being pulled to the back and there was nothing he could do about it. His fear for the little boys grew as the gunman shouted by his ear.

"Who's back there? Show yourself!"

Silence.

"You'd better come out or I'm going to kill this man!" He dragged the clerk to the men's room door and kicked it open. No one was visible and he tried to drag the clerk down so he could see under the stalls, but the man was struggling so much it was impossible. The gunman finally growled and struck Mickey on the head with the butt of his gun. Mickey's unconscious body hit the floor in a heap. The gunman immediately went down on all fours to look for feet in the stalls, but got back up when he found none. Leaving nothing to chance, he opened each stall but still found nothing. He left the men's room and moved across to the ladies' room, really not expecting to find anything. The door was locked. _What the hell?_ He didn't see an 'out of order sign', so he kicked the door until it crashed open and immediately got down on all fours again. There were no feet showing, so he began opening the doors one by one. The last door resisted and once again, he resorted to kicking it open. There he found two little boys standing on the toilet seat. The bigger one was standing in front of the smaller one with a fierce expression on his face. The criminal snarled as he reached for the boys.

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Please let me know what you think. Next and final part will be up on Wednesday. ;-P


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! You guys are awesome! I appreciate each and every one of you! Thanks to you all who have reviewed or put me or the fic on alert or favorites. You're amazing!**

**Here's the last chapter. I hope you all like it! Debbie, I had you in mind when I wrote it. ;-)**

**Disclaimers: See first chapter. :-)  
**

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John was comfortable, both physically and mentally on his perch atop the building across the street from the convenience store. He'd barricaded the worried father part of himself behind a brick wall, and only allowed the seasoned combat marine part of himself to be out. He knew his sons were in the building across the street. The gunman had been out of sight for about a minute, along with the store clerk, and the police were beginning to close in a little looking for an opportunity to bring the gunman down. The hunter lifted his rifle to his shoulder, settled it comfortably, and peered through the sight, scanning the visible part of the convenience store for a target. He scanned left to right and back. As he began his sweep to the right, something flickered at the left of his view. He swung back to get a good look and was horrified to see the gunman holding Sammy and pulling an angry, struggling Dean behind him.

John's heart leaped into his throat as the sight he was seeing through his scope slammed home to him. _My boys! God, please no!_ Taking his eye away from the scope to rub his face, he allowed himself only that one brief second to be a terrified father. He shut that part of himself down once again then brought the hunter/soldier to the front to do what had to be done. Looking back through the scope with a steady eye, he calmly assessed the situation. The bastard was holding a crying Sammy up in front of himself to block any chance of a police bullet finding its mark. John swung the scope over to find Dean struggling against the man's grip, swinging his arms and legs at the man in an attempt to strike the guy with any kind of blow. He could see Dean's mouth moving and could imagine what the boy might be saying to the bastard holding his little brother.

Suddenly Dean's foot connected with the gunman's knee, almost causing him to collapse to the floor. In a rage, the criminal let his grip on the boy go, giving him a powerful back-handed slap that knocked the older boy into a set of loaded shelves. John could barely contain his rage at the sight of the gunman hitting Dean. He still had his eye glued to the scope and as the gunman turned into the follow-through of the blow he'd struck, his head became fully visible behind Sammy. John took a deep breath, steadied his aim, and squeezed the trigger. As soon as the shot was off he jumped up, threw the beloved weapon into the river, and headed off the roof to the next building over. As he rounded the building, he headed toward the 7-Eleven at a dead run.

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Dean had fought and he'd fought hard, but the gunman had pulled him away from Sammy with no trouble at all. Much to his horror, the bastard grabbed his little brother around the waist and headed out towards the store. Dean's eyes went wide as he saw Mickey lying on the floor. The boy couldn't tell if the clerk was alive or dead, but it caused him to flail at the gunman even harder. The older boy realized the bastard was also using Sammy as a shield against the police outside. The little boy's screams of fear tore at Dean's heart. "Let my brother go, you son of a bitch! I'll kill you, you bastard! My dad's gonna rip your heart out if you hurt us!"

"Shut up, kid. Behave yourself and no one gets hurt here. Tell this brat to shut up, too. I'm already sick of his noise."

"My brother's not a brat! You're the one who should be worried." Dean suddenly felt the satisfaction of his foot finding its mark and the gunman faltering, nearly going to the floor. For a brief second, the older boy thought he'd loosen his grip on Sammy and his little brother would be able to get away. That was not to be. Dean felt the excruciating pain as the gunman back-handed him so hard he was thrown into the shelving unit behind him. He sprawled out on the floor, taking the unit and its contents down with him. There was a brief flash of light behind his eyes and the world went dark.

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Dean didn't know how long he lay there. He didn't think it was very long, but things were different than they were before. Sammy was crying beside him, calling his name as he shook him . . . begging his big brother to be okay. The older boy opened his eyes, allowing them to search out his little brother's face. As the image seemed to shimmer and come into focus, Dean realized with a start that there was blood on his brother. The shock of that sight brought him to his senses very quickly, and he struggled to sit up. "Sammy! Are you hurt? Where's the blood coming from? Let me see you!" He pulled his brother to himself and began checking him over as the younger boy sobbed and tried to speak.

"No, D-Dean. I-I'm okay. The blood's his." He pointed to the obviously dead man lying not far away. "I thought he killed you!" Sammy let out a wail that would have done a banshee proud as he leaned forward into his big brother's embrace and let everything go.

Relief flooded through the older boy as he held his little brother tight and tried to utter comforting sounds. _Sammy's okay!_ _I wonder what happened? How is this all over? _Dean looked around the mess that he was lying in and then his eyes rested on Mickey; still and quiet, but his chest moved slightly, making the boy feel even better. Suddenly he felt his own injuries: his head hurt, his _face_ hurt — he remembered being struck by the gunman — and his back hurt where he must have fallen against the shelves.

Putting his uninjured cheek down onto his little brother's head, sitting like that for a little while. The sounds of the police coming in the door bellowing for everyone to get down startled the boys, causing them to jump. The brothers put their hands up, Sammy leaning into Dean and crying even harder. The men scattered throughout the building, looking for any other perps and then began shouting "Clear!" until they'd all been heard. Paramedics were there, one stopped briefly at the dead man and then moved on to the little boys. Another saw Mickey's body and went to him as the man began to groan. The paramedic was trying to take Sammy away from Dean. Sammy was screaming and Dean held onto him for dear life. The man was speaking in a calm voice, but Dean didn't hear the words — he was too intent on not letting go of his brother. Voices were everywhere and it was all just a huge confusion of sound that made no sense to Dean, until one angry voice came through all the rest of the noise. _Dad!_ There was a bigger commotion at the door, but suddenly Dad was there.

"Dean! Sammy! Are you boys all right?" Two tearful faces looked up in relief at the sound of John's voice right beside them, and they both launched themselves at him, nearly knocking him over from his squatted position.

"Sir, there's a lot of blood on the little guy. We really need to check him out."

John nodded in understanding and agreement. Kissing Sammy on the top of his head and hugging him tight, John said, "Sammy, this man wants to make sure you're not hurt. Okay? Let him look you over. Dean and I aren't going anywhere. It'll only take a minute."

Sammy nodded reluctantly and moved a little away from his dad's comforting arms to allow himself to be checked over.

"Dean, I want him to check you, too. I saw what happened when that bastard hit you. You were lying still on the floor and that scared the crap out of me. No arguments, son!"

It was Dean's turn to nod reluctantly at the tone of his dad's voice. He didn't take his eyes off of Sammy for a second as he held on tightly to his dad.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I should have protected Sammy better. I should have kept that guy from getting to him. He could have been hurt so badly. I'm so sorry." He buried his head in his dad's shoulder, not wanting to cry in front of his hero, but needing the comfort.

John nearly sobbed at the anguish in his son's voice. He wrapped his arms tightly around the boy and rocked him back and forth. "You did good, son. Sammy's okay. He's got some of that bastard's blood on him, but he's fine. You did the best you could. I saw what happened, Dean and I'm very proud of you. I just wish I could have been here for you." He rested his cheek on Dean's head as his heart almost burst with pride in his oldest son. He knew Dean was capable and the boy had proved it, yet again. "Go to the paramedic, son," John said as Sammy came and threw his arms around the eldest Winchester's neck. Dean did as instructed, and John turned his attention to his youngest, all the while keeping one eye on the older boy.

The paramedic was examining the burgeoning bruise on the older boy's cheek where he'd been struck. Gentle fingers were pressing on the discoloration, causing Dean to flinch away. "I'm sorry, son. I'm looking to see if there's a fracture. Can you let me do that?" The boy nodded and the exam continued. "That's going to be pretty sore for a while, but I don't feel any fractures. You should be checked out at the hospital, though." He looked at John to see if he'd been heard. John nodded as he held tight to the littlest boy. The rest of the exam went well, with a bump on the back of Dean's head being the only other possible major injury. The other bumps and bruises were nothing to worry about and the boy was released to return to his father and brother.

"Dean? Sammy? Are you boys okay?"

So wrapped up in each other were they, the new voice caused all three Winchesters to jump. Three surprised faces looked up to see a concerned Mickey with a bandage on his head and a paramedic holding onto one arm to steady him.

Dean spoke up for them. "We're fine, Mickey. Are you okay? Did he hurt you bad? I'm sorry I couldn't help you; I had to look out for Sammy."

The regret on the boy's face was almost too much for the older man. "You did just right, Dean. Sammy was your priority and that's what I wanted you to do . . . keep your brother safe. I'll be fine. I just have to go for some x-rays, but I've got a hard head. He didn't hurt me bad at all." The clerk reached down and ruffled the older boy's hair. "I'll be back to work in no time and I hope to see you boys in here again. Don't let this scare you away, okay?"

Both boys nodded. "Dad, this is Mickey. He works here and kept the bad guy busy while I got Sammy into the restroom. He helped us, Dad. Mickey, this is our dad."

John could barely speak as he offered his hand to the other man. "John. Thank you, Mickey! I owe you everything. I couldn't have stood it if anything happened to my boys!"

Shaking the offered hand, Mickey shook his head. "All I did was distract the man for a moment. Dean did the rest. You've got yourself some fine sons there, John. You should be proud of them. They're good boys and always welcome in the store. Never a bit of trouble out of either of them. You boys go ahead and take whatever treats you want, okay? I'll square it with the boss." At the tug of the paramedic on his arm, Mickey nodded and began to turn away. "Guess I've gotta go. See you boys soon." The older man waved as he disappeared.

Sammy looked up at his dad's face. "I don't think I want a treat anymore, Daddy. I just want to go home. Is that okay?"

John kissed his baby's forehead. "Sure is, kiddo. We have to take Dean to have a doctor look at his cheek, but then we'll go home and rest. Let's go get the car." He gave the boys a squeeze as they rose from their place on floor, all three regretting the loss of the close contact, but both boys grabbing their father's hands as they walked out of the store towards home. One of the paramedics looked in their direction and John explained what they were doing. The man nodded and went back to tending to his patient.

www

"I don't need to see a doctor, Dad!" Dean whined for the umpteenth time. "Can't we just go home and you can take care of me?"

"We will go home and I will take care of you, Dean. I'll take care of both of you, but the doctor is going to tell us what the x-rays showed, first. I'm not taking any chances. You got hit pretty hard protecting your brother."

The three Winchesters were sitting on the exam table in the emergency room; all still reluctant to let go of each other. The x-ray had been hard for the boys. John and Sammy had to wait in the hall while Dean went in alone. Neither boy was happy about that, but Sammy was inconsolable until his brother reappeared. John had a son under each arm and the boys were wrapped around him so tightly, it seemed they wanted to be _inside_ of him. He could feel the boys' hands on his back and knew they were holding on and pulling strength from each other as well as from him. John didn't mind one little bit. He did wish the doctor would get a move on so they could leave, though. He wanted to get his boys home and into a warm bath. Sammy had been cleaned up more to check for any hidden injuries and to keep him from being too traumatized by having blood on him, but they needed a bath.

Three heads turned as the curtain to the cubicle opened and a doctor appeared. "Hi! I'm Doctor Norris. I'm the attending here and I just got done looking at Dean's x-rays. May I look at your cheek, Dean?"

"Yes, sir." The boy sat up straighter so the doctor could examine him, once again enduring gentle fingers pressing on the bruised area. Dean closed his eyes, but didn't make a sound or movement during the exam.

"Good boy! Thank you, Dean. There's no fracture of the bone, Mr. Winchester. It does appear to be bruised, but that will heal. He's going to have an awesome bruise there, though; and quite a story to tell to go along with it. You're quite the hero, young man." The doctor smiled at Dean as he patted his shoulder. "The rest of the bumps and bruises are just bumps and bruises. The one on the back of his head will go down and he's not exhibiting any signs of concussion at this point, so I think you're good to go. If he does start to act lethargic or has any nausea or vertigo, get him back in here right away. If he needs it, just give him some Tylenol for the pain." He shook John's hand, patted each boy on the shoulder, and left the three of them alone.

Sammy was the first to speak. "Does that mean we can go, Dad?"

"Yes, it does, Sammy." A nurse appeared with a form for John to sign and they were moving before the she'd had the chance to speak. John scrawled his name on the line, and took his boys out of the hospital.

It was a fairly short ride from the hospital to their home, but Sammy was already asleep in his big brother's arms by the time they got there. Pulling up to the house, John put the car into Park and got out to open the back door for his boys. "I'll get him, sport."

Dean shook his head. "I've got him, Dad. He's not heavy."

John stood back to allow Dean the chance to do this on his own, but when the older boy staggered a little under the weight of his little brother, John took the younger boy from him. "It's okay, Dean. You've done your job for the day. Let me help you with this, okay?"

Dean reluctantly let go of his burden as the weight was lifted from him. The boy realized how tired he really was as he headed up the stairs to their little porch and waited for his dad to unlock the door.

Sammy had automatically wrapped his arms around John's neck, so getting the house key out of his pocket was no problem. "Why don't you start the bathwater going for me, Dean? I want to get this blood off of Sammy tonight, so he doesn't wake up with it in the morning."

"Yessir!" Dean responded and hurried down the hall to obey.

John heard the water already running as he sat down on the sofa with his precious burden and began the task of waking the sleeping boy. Looking at the innocent face of his baby boy, he paused. _They're okay, Mary. I saved them. Our babies are going to be fine._ Tears prickled his eyes as he gently shook the boy in his arms. "Wake up, Sammy. I need you to wake up so we can get your jacket off, okay? Come on, Sammy."

Sammy's eyes blinked open slowly and he sleepily looked at his dad's face above him. Suddenly the hazel eyes popped wide open as the boy again threw his arms around his father's neck. The tiny body was shaking violently as he gripped his father tightly. "Daddy? Where's Dean? I don't see Dean! Is he okay? Is he hurt? Daddy!"

John sighed as he returned the embrace, rubbing circles on Sammy's back. "Dean's fine, Sammy. He's getting a bath ready for you. We're at home and I need you to get undressed so we can get you cleaned up." John glanced down the hallway. "Dean!" he called. "Come here a second, son."

Dean hurried out of the bathroom to his dad's side. "Is Sammy okay?"

At the sight of his brother up and moving, Sammy relaxed completely, but didn't let go of his father. "You okay, Dean?"

"I'm fine, Sammy. I'm getting a bath ready for you. You want some bubbles? I was just going to pour some into the water."

Sammy nodded, finally able to let go of John's neck.

John indicated to Dean that it was okay for him to go back and began the process of helping his little boy get undressed. He hadn't done this in a very long time. Dean took his responsibility as Sammy's caregiver and protector very seriously, but seemed to understand that John needed to do this tonight. Marveling at his older son's sensitivity, he smiled, _We have a really good boy there, Mary. Thank you for these two gifts._

Sammy was finally undressed to his underwear and the two headed down the hall to the bathroom where Dean was waiting for them.

Sammy got into the tub with no argument, and Dean began to clean the blood off of his little brother. "You get yourself in there, too, sport. I've got Sammy."

Dean's questioning gaze went to his father's face, but saw no recrimination or blame. The smile was genuine. Dean quickly got out of his clothes and into the tub as John washed the blood out of his baby boy's hair. Soon both boys were clean and John left them to play and relax in the water.

The exhausted father sat on the sofa with his face in his hands listening to the precious sounds of his boys emanating from the bathroom. He knew the tiny room would be a wreck when they were done, but he'd happily clean up after them. The events of the evening suddenly came crashing down onto him and he let go, trying not to sob too loudly and upset the boys. Giving in to the release of emotions, John sat there for he didn't know how long. He finally was all cried out, beginning to feel somewhat better, when he realized the sounds coming from the bathroom were different; the boys were getting out of the tub. John wiped his eyes, dried his face on his sleeve, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Stand still, runt. I need to get your hair dry."

"I am standing still, Dean. You're shaking me all over drying my hair! I can do it, okay? Just let me do it."

The older boy grinned up at his dad standing in the doorway, watching the interaction. It was another of Dean's ways of distracting his little brother from the events of the evening. "Can you get Sammy's pajamas for me, Dad? He'll be dry in a little bit, if he stops wiggling."

"I'm not wiggling! You're shaking me all over the bathroom. Daaaaad!"

Chuckling and amazed at the resilience of children, John went to the boys' room and pulled out some clean dinosaur pajamas for Sammy and a pair of worn sweats and t-shirt for Dean. The banter was still going on when he returned to the bathroom, only now Sammy was mostly dry with Dean drying off the last foot.

"Here you go, Dean. Brought yours, too."

"Thanks, Dad." Dean quickly dried himself and got into his clothes as Sammy struggled with his almost too small pajamas.

John's eyes saddened at what his children had to put up with in this life they led. Sammy had hit a growth spurt a month ago, and almost none of his clothes fit. Dean was eating like a horse, and the same thing was going to happen to him, soon. Their clothes came from The Salvation Army store and were too big, then fit, and now almost too small — almost worn out, too. John reckoned they needed to make a clothing run tomorrow. _It'll be something to keep their minds off what happened, too. That'll be good. What's tomorrow? Saturday! I only work half a day, so we can go in the afternoon after I've cashed my check._ John briefly considered not going to work, but this job was too important right now and Saturday was overtime. _The boys'll be okay for the morning,_ he assured himself.

"Ready, Daddy."

John was pulled from his thoughts by the small voice. He glanced down to see two sets of green eyes looking up at him expectantly.

"You guys want some popcorn?" He laughed at the enthusiastic head nods and huge smiles on his sons' faces. "Okay. You boys get the stuff ready and I'll clean up this room for you."

The boys tried to occupy the same space as they bounced off each other, the door jam, and John as they excitedly ran toward the kitchen. By the time John had the bathroom picked up and reached the kitchen, the popper, popcorn, butter, and large bowl were all ready and waiting for him.

www

Dean and Sam were leaning up against John contentedly. They'd fallen asleep shortly after starting a movie on television, tummies happily full and exhausted from the day's events. They'd been sitting this way for some time, John reluctant to wake them for bed where they'd be on their own. The time had come, however, to do just that. He smirked at the reason for doing it — his arms had fallen asleep.

"Dean." He leaned toward the older boy. "Dean, wake up, kiddo. You boys need to go to bed."

"Dad?" The sleepy voice filled the father's heart.

"Yeah, Dean. Come on, okay? We gotta get you boys to bed. You go ahead and I'll bring Sammy."

"I can do it, Dad," Dean managed to mumble as he nearly lost his balance and tumbled into the coffee table.

"Right. I know you can, son. I'd like to do it tonight, okay?"

"Mmmmhmm." Eyes barely open, the older boy moved toward their bedroom, trying desperately to remain upright as he staggered from wall to wall.

John could barely hold in the laughter as he watched his son's attempt at walking. When Dean disappeared into the bedroom, John got up and lifted Sammy up to his shoulder where the younger boy settled right in. John made his way down the hall to the boys' bedroom, finding Dean getting under the covers on his side of the full bed. John went around to Sammy's side and gently laid the boy down and allowing Dean to cover him up. John leaned down and kissed Sammy's forehead as he ruffled Dean's short hair. "G'night boys. Sleep well."

"Night, Dad."

"Nnnnttt, Ddddy."

John waited until the two youngsters were settled with Sammy up against Dean and Dean's arm protectively around his little brother before he moved out of the room. He left the door open a little so he could hear if the boys needed him, and went to his bedroom. The weapons bag was still on his bed and he sat down to see if anything needed to be cleaned. Everything was spotless and well-oiled, as always. Needing something to occupy his mind, he set about disassembling the 1911 model .45 and began carefully cleaning and oiling it.

A while later he heard the floor creak outside his room and looked up to see Dean standing there. "You okay, kiddo? Did you have a nightmare? Sammy okay?" He held an arm out to his first born.

"M'okay, Dad. Had to pee. Sammy's fine. He was a little restless a while ago, but he's okay now." Dean accepted the invitation and moved to stand next to his father. John hooked his arm around his boy and pulled him close. Dean liked to watch John care for the weapons. He always looked like he loved each and every one of them. Dean had his own favorites of the weapons, too. He thought the best one was the .308. It was still too heavy for him, but he thought it would be just right in a couple of years.

"Can I get the .308 out for you, Dad? I like to watch you break her down and clean her. Will she be mine, someday?"

"I'm afraid not, Dean. I lost her. She's gone."

The boy frowned as he looked deep into his father's dark brown eyes. "What happened? When did you lose her? She was here a couple of days ago."

John took a deep breath and put both arms around his son, resting his chin in the boy's hair. "I lost her tonight, son. She did the job I needed her to do and then I had to say goodbye to her."

The gangly boy pulled away so that he could see his father's face. "Tonight? You lost her tonight?"

"I did."

"It was you?"

"It was. Sammy doesn't need to know that right now, if ever, okay sport?"

Dean nodded his agreement. "Yessir."

John pulled his big boy back into his body and said into his son's ear, "I want you to know that I will _never_ let anything happen to you or Sammy as long as I'm alive. I will do _whatever_ it takes to keep you both safe. Got that?"

"I've got it, Dad." Dean returned the embrace with all his might.

"Good!" Letting go of the boy and giving him a playful swat on the behind, John said, "Now get back to bed. You need to get some rest and Sammy might wake up and find you gone."

"'Nite, Dad." Dean turned and headed back to his own room and his sleeping little brother, stealing one glance back at his dad as he exited the room. He climbed back into bed and snuggled up around Sammy once again, causing the younger boy to stir and rouse slightly. "Shhhh, Sammy. It's okay. We're safe. Dad's watching out for us."

Both boys went to sleep quickly. The only Winchester that didn't get a good night's sleep that night was John. He could be seen sitting sentinel outside his boys' bedroom — in case they needed him.

Fin

**A/N 2: What did you think? Push that little button below and let me know. Thanks again for taking the time with my little offering.**


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